


The Jungles of Menagerie

by Lobb



Category: RWBY
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Amazon, Breeding, F/F, F/M, Femdom, High Fantasy, Multi, Shameless Smut, Tribal Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22166914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lobb/pseuds/Lobb
Summary: Legend said that the jungles of Menagerie were home to an ancient civilization of people known as the Faunus, though no one had returned from the land in hundreds of years.That didn't stop Jaune Arc, a young magician focused in restorative magics, from venturing deep into the jungle in order to delve it for lost treasures and knowledge.Never did he think he'd end up meeting the amazonian Faunus race- or end up becoming the tribe's doctor.  On the bright side, being surrounded by beautiful women.  Downside, he was basically a glorified slave.
Relationships: Jaune Arc/Everyone
Comments: 4
Kudos: 149





	1. Prologue: Tiger Pelts

**Author's Note:**

> (Neon’s Mother: Rain; Velvet’s Mother: Velour  
> Luna (Blake), Prism (Neon), Chiffon (Velvet), Qara (Sienna), Synesa (Rain), Voile (Velour), Alba (Trifa))

**The Jungles of Menagerie**

**Prologue**

**Tiger Pelts**

The jungles of Menagerie were lush, and heated. The canopy allowed the sun to shine through in beams of light that tickled his skin as he passed over and through the underbrush. Colorful, likely toxic, plants mingled with the occasional panther or sizable jungle rodents. So far, he'd catalogued six species of flowers, and what seemed to be an herb like mint that strangely produced a thick paste when cut and squeezed.

He’d spent more time stopping to make an illustration of the latest thing he’d seen that he couldn’t recall from his many books at the College. Ever since he’d left the shores of Sanus, it had been an adventure worth taking.

The heat and mugginess had encouraged a firm sweat on his skin, and he’d had to fight off his share of the jungle’s predators, though thankfully he’d only usually had to deliver a solid blow before they’d inevitably go skulking off elsewhere. The jungle’s feline predators were the most egregious, though they were rarely enough to stop him.

He privately thanked the College’s teachings on hand-to-hand combat, and the Good Witch’s classes felt so worth taking despite her glare. As he passed through another thicket of heavy vegetation, he came upon a larger boar with a black hide, already laid dead with a pair of knives carved from ivory stuck fast into its skull, just between the line of its brow and where a mane of rich red fur began. The fact the beast’s left eye was torn out in a bloody gash too wasn’t missed.

As he went to kneel next to the fresh kill, his memories of growing up in the wilds of Sanus took over, and he looked from the meat waiting to be slaughtered towards the paths through the underbrush, noting how a line of cooling blood was leading away.

Whoever- or whatever- was hunting this kill had gotten injured and had made the decision to hide away when they’d gotten hurt in the attempt. It was dangerous in the extreme, but . . .

Jaune’s better nature wouldn’t let him leave them to die. As he stood up from his kneel next to the boar, he adjusted his satchel at his hip and fixed his wide-sleeved shirt. The soft  **crunch** of his boots against the forest floor a comforting noise as he put his head on a swivel while he followed the trail of blood into the undergrowth.

The keening of the jungle’s fauna was muted as he ducked beneath a mid-level canopy and saw the blood get mitigated by what looked to be footfalls, growing heavier and heavier with every step. Whoever had gotten injured was losing strength fast, and that made him pick up pace-

-until he crested under a bough and finally saw her. Laying against the trunk of a tree, a dark-skinned woman clutching at her abdomen with a pained grimace only further intensified by the hasty, gasping breaths coming from her breast. It was a testament to the kind of pain she was in that she didn’t notice him, he was sure. As he got closer, he could see that her garb was made from a smoothed out leather accented with a soft fabric of some kind, though he had to question the dark colors when the heat was already enough to have his brain simmering in it’s own juices.

Then again, perhaps those colors were the only dyes native to the island itself? Nonetheless, as his eyes caught sight of her hands drenched in blood and clenching at her ribs, he stepped forward, the only thought in his head that he couldn’t watch her die.

It was in that moment he noticed something else as her head shot up and she looked at him with glassy eyes. Her skin awash in tiger-stripe like tattoos, and a pair of sizable and fuzzy-looking cat-like ears pierced through with rings seemingly made from bone of some kind.

He’d catalogue it later, when she wasn’t bleeding out-

-a clawed hand came up at him as he got within stepping range, and the pained hiss muted out into a low growl- before promptly falling silent again as her hips shifted against the ground beneath her and she struggled to sit up again. “Wait, let me help.” He hoped he sounded as sure as he could in that moment, though rather than noting the way her face scrunched up in confusion, Jaune knelt down next to her-

-and promptly felt a weak pain from her fingers connecting with the fabric of his shirt, not enough strength in them to push through even with those prominent claw-like nails. Well, he was a stranger, so it was only to be expected. Once again ignoring the smearing of blood across his once off-white shirt, he took hold of her wrist as she tried to push her claws in against the fabric and barely even ruffled it.

Well, safe to say she was hostile- but damn his conscious. Her grimace as he pressed her hand against his breeches-and-chaps-covered knee was noted, and he took his hand away to gather her other hand, noting the hole gushing blood in her abdomen.

“Gods.” He uttered softly. She’d probably gotten stuck with one of those tusks, though he hadn’t noticed any blood on them at the time. He’d been more obsessed with the state of the kill. It seemed she wasn’t going to give up just yet, since her bloody hands grasped for his neck and failed to find purchase both because of the slippery nature of her blood across her palms and because she lacked the strength to do more than have her arms lower from under their own weight.

He was going to lose her if he didn’t act fast. Her agonized grunts were turning into a soft series of hisses and gasps. Who knew how long she’d been bleeding out like this, and with a wound that size, it could only have been a miracle that he’d found her before she’d gone still as it was. His gloved hands straightened out, and- as her hands fisted in the collar of his shirt with all the strength of a newborn- he pressed his fingertips as the edges of her punctured clothes.

“I am the crossing of time’s touch, the coming of a day once thought lost.” He began to softly chant, glassy amber eyes staring at him in turn as her ears perked this way and that, flicking and fretting about as he’d have imagined a house-cat’s might. The subtle white glow of his hands beginning to gain in intensity as he continued, “I am the body, and the light’s host. From your pain, I free you. From your agony, I release you. By the air and the earth-”

The glow of his magic grew strong, and he steadily began to feed his fingertips up against her wound as it began to close. “ **Regenerate.”** Fresh new chocolate-colored skin knitting together over muscles restored, a much louder rasp of breath coming from the woman as her flesh became whole once again and he watched as all that was left to remain of the goring wound was the blood still pooled into her clothes and the discoloration of the new flesh against a more deep tan around it. Finally, the woman’s pain seemed to ease and he watched as her widened eyes went from his face down towards his hands as they came away- his gloves covered with her blood- and noticed that she no longer had a tusk-sized hole in her abdomen.

For a few moments, there was a serenity to the place, her clawed hands coming away from fisting in his shirt to prod and poke at where her wound had been, confused gibberish that sounded like purrs, hisses, growls, and other assorted noises. A language, perhaps? But not one he could replicate even if he wanted to. From her confusion, she hadn’t understood him at all, in turn. Though, that was hardly as important as the fact that she was hale now. The draining of his magical energy wasn’t too pronounced, but it was enough to draw a deep sigh from him.

Right before her hands once again shot up, grasping at his neck and catching on  **much more tightly** than she’d been able to not so long ago. Gasping and grunting, her eyes surged with a new life as his arms came up, grasping at her wrists as she squeezed and cut off his air-flow.

As a hurricane of hisses, growls, chirrups, and other noises came from her throat, he could only watch as she worked up unto her feet, shorter than he’d be if he was standing. Gasping for breath past her powerful grip- wow, she was  **strong!** \- he felt the way her claws were starting to dig into the nape of his neck, igniting extra pinpricks of sensation as his head started to get filled with cotton from the lack of air reaching his brain.

“I-can’t---unndstand-” He grunted out, his own hands strong on her wrists, but not able to dissuade her from strangling him further. “Ggh-kahauek-”

Before the shadows claimed him, deep amber gold eyes became imprinted on his very mind.

+x+x+x+

  
  


_ He dreamed of home. Of his sisters, and his parents. Perhaps it was his life flashing before his eyes, but he couldn’t remember feeling so numb at the time. The Lady Summer Rose and her two daughters- an energetic blonde his own age, and a soft-spoken little girl who looked just like her mother- telling his parents the facts of the matter. _

__ _ He had The Gift, as had her own children like her before them. It had come to be as a result of their play together leading them near a monster’s den, and promptly turning into disaster. A humanoid wolf chasing them half-way through the forest before Ruby- younger than them by two years and not as gifted in running yet with her short and stubby little legs- had tripped over a gnarled root and twisted her ankle. _

__ _ Proudly, he would say that neither he nor her sister could be considered cowards. The prowling beast had come in closer to them before Yang had stood fast and firm, her hair aglow with magical power as a weak little ball of fire mustered itself and splashed across the monster’s face, sending it howling in sudden pain while he’d tried to pull Ruby up into his arms and only stumbled. _

__ _ Even that little, sudden use of the latent powers that had been born inside of her exhausted Yang, and that meant he was their only protector. So he’d hefted a larger piece of gnarled wood from the forest floor and turned to face enraged Death with a childish squeal of frustration and defiance. _

__ _ He hadn’t even gotten in reach of the creature before he’d been swiped away, sent hurtling into the dirt nearby, a gash tore into his chest and his blood painting the forest floor. _

__ _ It had hurt. It was an unbearable agony to an eight year old child. At the time, he’d wished anything would make the pain go away. _

__ _ When it had, it’d already been too late. Just as magically exhausted as Yang was, he missed how the girls’ uncle had come to their rescue, and how he’d looked upon them all, slumped on the ground and in the states of unconsciousness. _

__ _ Errant magic was not something that could be allowed, and so he- along with the girls- would be sent to the College, where the Lady Rose herself had been an apprentice when she was a girl- along with, he would later find out, Yang’s own true mother. _

__ _ Light faded in- _

He awoke with a start, the soft keening of a jungle bird the noise that drew his senses back to wakefulness. He startled up into a seated position before he even took in his surroundings, looking around in a panic.

If he’d died, the afterlife looked an awful lot like a wooden hut with a canvas-like roof filled with shelves and threadbare furniture. As his eyes ghosted over his surroundings, his legs shifting over the edge of the heavy wood frame of the bed he’d been laid upon, a voice softly called out.

“Awake?” It drew his attention immediately, in the soft shadows of the evening sun, he saw a woman with raven black hair shorn short seated at a nearby table, his leather satchel laid out upon it and with most of the contents spread out across the wooden surface. His senses jolted back to full wakefulness as opposed to the drowsiness that came from unconsciousness as he spotted the large fluffy ears that were similarly pierced through like the woman earlier.

Though, in comparison, her skin was more akin to a dessert’s golden sands than the rich brown of the woman he’d rescued- before she’d choked him out. Similarly amber eyes were settled on him, and he saw the way her eye-line was creased with wrinkles of age.

She was a woman prone to smiling often, he could tell. Yet here she was, staring at him almost as if he was an anomaly. Despite the way he should have reacted with more force, he found himself sharing in that staring contest with her. A flickering second seemed to pass in which her lips curled upwards into a light smile, showcasing more prominent canines, before she spoke again. “Awake is good. Hi.”

The greeting was so casual, but full of so much rumbling force from her chest that it came across as a purr. He could only find the temerity in him to blink. This woman -spoke- his language? Sure, it was obviously ramshackle at best, but even those few words was something. “You understand me?” He asked, and received a hand-signal that he interpreted as a somewhat, from the way she split the air with her fingers and then waggled her hand like a lever.

“Daughter better. Sit, stay.” She noted, and despite himself, the mother’s inflection in her voice made him obey as she stood and watched the curtain of black-painted and diaphanous fabric that kept her body modest- for a given value- flowed along in the air as she slipped from the table and began to walk outside with footfalls as quiet as a breeze. As she stepped through the canvas-like curtain that acted as a door to the hut, he let his gaze flit about once again, before noting his things piled unto the table.

_ My catalogue is missing. _ He thought to himself, noting the lack of the leather-bound tome he’d been keeping notes of the jungle’s flora and fauna within.  _ So is my journal and my book of the elements. Why my books? _ He shook his head, deciding the question would answer itself if given time. The sample vials he’d collected so far were strewn about wildly, and he mentally groaned at the thought of having to recategorize it all again within the satchel’s pockets.

_ Ah, great. That’s gonna take FOREVER. _ As his feet touched warm wood, he looked down to note that his shoes had been taken off, and he wiggled his toes as a result.  _ Gonna have to trim those later. _ He thought idly, but soon let his attention go around the hut again.

Shelves filled with pots made of what he would otherwise call clay if it weren’t for the rustic black sheen they held, with each pot filled with some kind of herb or spice from the way a great many of them looked and smelled. Alongside that, a set of wicker-like bins that he opened the top of to look into, noting one was stuffed full of a plant as black as an inky night while the other was stuffed to the brim with red flowers that explained the colors of the women’s clothes.

_ A storage hut, or a medicinal lodge?  _ Jaune could never claim to be the most intelligent- that honor certainly went to Ruby or the countless other excellent students he’d shared time at the College with- but even he could work through something as simple as that. He even saw several of those mint-smelling plants he’d seen earlier alongside several more of those black jars that he opened the top of and got a strong whiff of the paste within.

_ It smells almost like mint does. But it has this . . . slimy texture. Eugh. _ He immediately regretted rubbing some of the solution between his fingers, wiping them off on his already bloodstained shirt.  _ And there’s more of it- but it smells muted. Some kind of cleanliness product? _

A soft chirrup stole his attention away from the things on the shelves, drawing his attention towards the “doorway” of the hut. Stood there was a girl who looked near his own age, though he could easily see the resemblance of the woman before and this one. Long, flowing black locks and glimmering amber eyes only mitigated by the paleness of her skin and the lack of age-lines or piercings decorating her own feline ears. Rather than a gown of diaphanous black, she wore leathers more like the woman he’d healed earlier, though a greater lack of red was instead muted by sun-bleached white.

For a moment, a curious tilt of her head- and those ears atop it- was all that she offered until her lips, plush and thickly rouged, split open and he saw her own elongated canines. “Book-keeper is awake.” Her own heaviness of accent persisted, but her diction was notably better. He nearly startled at it, before her foot-falls registered across the floor and she was stood within reach of him.

It was only when her arm raised and she held out a leather-bound tome towards him that he noted it was even in her hand.  _ Book-keeper? _ He mused. Confused by the moniker, he nonetheless accepted his catalogue back and broke it open with a set of fingers, noting that it was still intact and had seemingly been perused over from the roughness of some of the page’s edges.

His attention shot from the soft colors he’d sketched some of the animals and plants in unto the girl’s face, watching the way her somewhat deadpan expression remained on him. “That will make Sienna happy.”

“Sienna?” He asked, confused. Watching as the girl’s amber eyes slid over his face for a moment before she nodded.

“Sienna. Sister of my mother. One who brings you here.” His thoughts collected, and he could only marvel at that idea. Well, at all of it in general. The legends of the Faunus race were real- though he’d presumed them a little embellished, since the women he’d run into so far didn’t quite have all the features of animals and they hadn’t yet showcased any otherworldly ability to shapeshift into full beasts.

Still, the woman who he’d saved had brought him? Instead of killing him?

“What’s your name?” He said, before pausing and realizing his faux pas. “I’m Jaune.”

For a moment, the girl’s head tilted the opposite way, her feline ears flicking again before settling back out. “Blake.” She noted, and he catalogued that fact away for later- if there was more of a later.

“Why… did Sienna bring me here?” He asked, softly. Noting the way the dark-haired girl’s ears pinned back and, for a moment, it looked as if she wasn’t sure how to respond to him. A few light chirrups and growl-like purrs came free from her throat, before she seemed to remember he couldn’t understand her.

“She owes you a life-debt.” That series of words made him blink in confusion.  _ A life-debt? What’s that mean? _ His curiosity must have been plain on his face, as Blake let out an amused, chirrup-like laugh. Despite himself, he found it . . . fetching. Cute, even. “She said no one could take your life but her.”

_ WHAT?! _ He felt safe in that thought, wondering what in the name of all of Magic there was to be said about  **that?!** His panic must have been equally clear, because another of Blake’s curiously cute little laughs came from her throat.

“Book-keeper is safe.” Blake’s throaty voice came through, and his gaze returned onto her, rather than the implications of her words. “She likes you. Even if she would deny.”

He wasn’t sure he was willing to take that without a pound of salt, but he was alive for the moment, at least. That had to mean something. “How can you understand me?” It was a question that had been burning in his head since meeting Blake’s mother, though perhaps bringing it up just then wasn’t the best. As Blake’s eyes quirked in a way that followed with a smile that was certainly another thing inherited from her mother, he could only wonder what he’d gotten himself into this time.

Well, at least Ruby and Yang hadn’t gotten dragged into his mishaps once again. They were hopefully both safe still at the College back on Sanus.

“Father taught me to read the language. From reading, I learn to speak. From speaking, I learn to understand.” Her father?

“Where is your father?” He asked, and from the somewhat glum way she received the question, he didn’t have the heart to press the issue further.  _ That’s a bad sign, too. _ “Nevermind. So, what is going to happen to me?”

Blake’s expression turned away from the agonized one she’d worn, settling back out into the almost listless look she’d had when she’d first come in. “You can heal wounds of the injured. You will do that for us.”

“Us?” It was a pertinent question, in his opinion. He saw his own ocean blue eyes reflected in her amber gold.

“Tribe.” She noted, the word pronounced with a distinct purr that elongated the R and made him wonder if Faunus had entirely different vocal structures from humans as well. Considering they seemed to have a language of some sort, he had to lend credence to the thought.

Just when he was about to ask another question, Blake paused him with a raised hand and then gestured to him to follow her. Having no real idea of what else to do, he did, stepping out through the canvas curtains that functioned as a door to the hut--

\--and into a town built into the canopy of the trees. Women of varying shapes and colors meandering about, though even at a distance, he saw that they weren’t simple humans like back at the College.

A great many of them had tails, extra appendages, or signs mimicking animals he’d read about or seen. Scales, fur, all of it on display from their breezy clothing and an almost lack of care in how they all moved with a bestial grace that reminded him of his studies in animalism classes.

Never before had he imagined such a thing. Sure, there were legends of Magicians who could turn into animals, but that had been considered a tall tale for years. Even the most gifted of Animalist mages could only speak with animals and often employ them as familiars, instead of something as amazing as transforming themselves.

Transformation was a lost art of Magic. Just like with changing base lead to gold, no one could recall the secrets that had led to such a powerful form of spellcraft. It had been the subject of research for countless College students since the College’s inception some hundreds of years ago.

And yet here, in the wilds of Menagerie, was a race of women who were potentially so attuned with their inner beast that it was something they could just -do-? Jaune’s mind ran wild with the implications.

“Greetings to Ku’kuana.” Blake noted with a rumble from her breast, and he could only shake his head.

_ What have I got myself into? _

Just as he had that thought, a growl from nearby drew his attention, and his eyes settled on a familiar face, amber gaze burning into his own while rich chocolate skin moved in sinuous ease beneath a diaphanous curtain of black. Despite himself, with his senses more in array, he couldn’t help but see how the thin lines of light through the canopy up above allowed him to see the curves beneath.

He wished he hadn’t noticed, when a pair of clawed hands bunched up in the fabric of his blood-stained shirt and drew him down to match her height. In another situation, it might have looked like she was about to kiss him, but the way Sienna snarled at him implied a much more hostile intent. The snarl was followed by more chirrups and growls, and for a moment, he wished he could understand her.

Only for Blake’s light voice to come from near his side, “She wants to know why you saved her.”

He could only blink. Well, having an interpreter of sorts was at least convenient like that. Even if he had a feeling there was a lot more to Sienna’s message than that. In the words of some of his classmates, it was a truncated version.

“Because she was hurt.” He decided it was best if he let Blake handle it, though when Sienna’s gaze went towards Blake in return, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was a mistake. “I wasn’t going to just let her die.” As Blake began to chirrup, churr, purr, and growl, he could only watch the way Sienna’s face seemed to continue to persist at being stuck half-enraged and half-listening to her niece.

The way the chocolate-skinned woman’s feline ears perked, tilted, and flicked drew his attention shortly before the small crowd that had gathered nearby. Women of varying shades and features watching as he was “held captive” so to speak while the two women talked in their language, with him only privy to when Blake or Sienna would gesture meaningfully towards him.

Though he did catch Blake bring a palm up against her abdomen, rubbing upwards, then flashing a grin that he was sure would look just as in place on her mother’s face. He got that much of a read off of the girl’s mother in their brief interaction. The fact that Sienna began to hiss and growl more explosively only told him that whatever she’d said had incensed the darker-skinned cat-woman.

“What is she saying?” Jaune asked, not able to deny the nervousness in his voice as- against his better judgement- he kept his eyes firmly on Sienna’s. Looking at Blake just then felt like a mistake he wouldn’t enjoy making.

“Now, or when Book-keeper actually said something?” He couldn’t help but narrow his brows at that. It was an admission that Blake and Sienna were carrying on a conversation without him. And he had the damndest feeling that the lighter-skinned girl was looking at him smugly.

Deep inside, Jaune got the feeling that Blake wasn’t quite the stoic girl she’d portrayed to him.

Another hiss from Sienna as she started to shake him by the front of his shirt made him realize that this situation was a little more severe than he felt warranted his introspection. That is to say, he had better shit to deal with. “What are you talking about  **now** ?!”   
  
In between a session of chirrups and soft yowls, Blake’s voice came from closer to his side, to the point he could almost see her face- WAS SHE SMILING?- in his peripheral view. “How she protects you.”

_ Protects me? _

His confusion made him move his eyes away from Sienna’s- missing the pleased look on her face- as he took in Blake’s features instead. The girl’s own amber eyes latching onto his face while her plush lips seemed firmly curled into a light “smile”. “You are a male. There has only been one other male who ended up in Ku’kuana. Father of mine.”

That fact made Jaune break out in a cold sweat. Not even because he processed the greater ramifications, but just because of the sad look that Blake had right after he’d asked about her father.

“Uh. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings earlier, but now it seems kind of relevant. Blake- what . . . happened to your father?”

Blake’s smile muted back out, and Sienna’s face ducked into his vision, a hiss coming from her throat. His attention was diverted back onto the darker-skinned female, and her clawed fingers came up, squishing his cheeks. “Fwhg?” He tried to say something, but apparently sounded funny from the way Sienna’s lips curled upwards in slight amusement.

It was the first time he’d seen her have a reaction to something that wasn’t pain or anger, and he couldn’t help but find it cute. Sienna was by no means unattractive, so that wasn’t a surprise, but the situation hardly called for that errant thought to drift through his head.

“He walked away.” Blake finally spoke up,and his eyes cut away from Sienna’s for a moment- only for her to force him right back to looking upon her with a growl, “Never return.”

Well, that explained a lot. Though, you would think a man like that would have proclaimed having delved the dangers of Menagerie? Then again, there was no saying whether he hadn’t returned because of willful desire or because he’d met an ill fate before he could return.

Privately, Jaune hoped it was the latter. It was preferable to the idea that a man could dare to have a child and then leave her. Only a truly terrible person could do that- and he had experience with Yang’s mother via the Lady Rose’s story.

That reminder alone only made his ire grow. Sure, he’d only known Blake for a few minutes, but just seeing the way Blake looked- a face that Yang had made now and then when her Witch of a mother was brought up- made him feel extremely protective of her.

Jaune swore internally that he’d -never- do something as bastardly. His hands finally came up, fingers coiling around Sienna’s wrists while her features muted into a look of confusion. Rather than forcing her to let him go entirely, he worked his thumbs against the palms of her hands and gave himself room to speak again. “I’m sorry, Blake. You didn’t deserve that.”

From Blake’s puzzled look, shortly before her ears pinned back and a soft little mewl came from her throat, he blinked at Sienna finally giving her niece her full attention with a long chirrup. His eyes darted between the two women as they spoke in that feline tongue, then drifted away when he caught a flash of black once again and saw Blake’s mother sauntering towards them with an amused grin on her face. A soft yowl came free from the matronly woman, catching both Blake and Sienna’s attention, and finally he was left to stand upright once again- and roll his neck to a strangely satisfying pop.

It didn’t prevent the frustration of being out of the loop, but- well- his other option was ducking back into the hut behind them, or-

He glanced to his left, then to his right over the wood walkway that was carefully constructed into the canopy of the trees.  _ Well. That is a  _ **_long_ ** _ fall. _ Not one he could survive, for certain. And he had no desire to hurt the women around- especially not since they hadn’t given him any real reason to yet. As it was, he was willing to forgive Sienna strangling him, since- well- he wasn’t dead.

One could put many a price on life, after all.

Being essentially captive in a tribal village of animal-women, however . . . it wasn’t quite the dream of riches and fame he’d had when he’d set out for Menagerie’s jungles.

At the end of the day, however, it was a little better than camping out under the tree canopies, worrying about dangerous fauna.  _ Wait, am I really putting a positive spin on this? _

He was. How in the world was he managing to do that?

His musings were cut off when the three women finally turned their attention back onto him, and he watched as Blake’s mother stepped forth, rubbing a blood-flecked part of his shirt between her thumb and forefinger. “You smell. Clothes have blood.” She noted, and he blinked at the force in her voice that was different from the almost idle tone she’d taken while he was laying down. “Sienna cannot speak. Blake cannot be trusted-” A growling whine from the younger girl interjected, “- Come. Bath. Clothes.” Well, he got the feeling he didn’t have much choice in the matter as it was, so rather than fighting over it- and probably losing either because of or despite the woman’s lack of vocabulary- he broke into step behind her, noting the way as they parted the small group of Faunus women that had gathered at the edge of the wooden walkway that had led to the hut he’d been unconscious in that a great many of them stared at him curiously.

Chirrups, keens, purrs, growls, yips, and various other noises that he didn’t understand the importance of passed from behind him as he followed the short-haired woman down a flight of stairs leading into what seemed to be a hollowed out tree that had been formed into a bath-house of some kind.

Or, at least, that was the idea he got from the fact a pool of some type had been set up, with pipes made of that same black material that he’d seen the pots be made out of leading this way and that.

_ If I had taken some kind of apprenticeship in architecture, I’m sure I’d understand the point of them all, but they just look like nonsense to me. _

That errant thought kept his mind occupied from the surrealness of the situation. Just before Blake’s mother- whom he realized he still hadn’t gotten the name of- turned to him and said in a voice like a growl, “Strip.”

Startled, he took a step back, right before the feline-eared woman stepped in towards him to match. “I-”

“No words. Just do as told.” Jaune hesitated, before sighing. Reaching up to unbundle his shirt from his pants, he tucked it up over his head and when the woman held an arm out to him offered it to her. Her amber eyes roamed his torso- toned both from his adventure away from the college and the hand-to-hand combat classes that had been gleefully taught by the Good Witch. His belt was the next thing to be shucked, and with that came the chaps that had protected his legs from cutting or stabbing brush, shortly followed by his breeches and the mundane underwear beneath. All the while, the woman’s gaze remained strictly on him, and he couldn’t help but feel nervous as he was fully bare before her.

To say he felt like a piece of meat would not have been wrong. The fact that his body was betraying him with a particularly at-odds reaction, and Blake’s mother noticed was just icing on the humiliation cake. As the feline-eared woman bundled his clothes together in her arms, her free arm rose and she pointed at the bath. “Clean yourself. Sienna’s blood stinks on you.”

She wasn’t wrong. Who knows how it came across to these women, either. Perhaps that had been what Sienna had been dealing with herself? He couldn’t know, since he couldn’t even ask her. Still, as he slipped into the sizeable bath- likely a communal bathing area from how large it was- he noted that Blake’s mother had remained, watching him like a metaphorical hawk.

He couldn’t deny the shiver that raced through his body at that. The warm water was nice, however, and when he spied a small wooden float with a set of black jars on it, he curiously pulled it closer and glanced inside of them.

More of that mint-like paste, and the gel of it with the charcoal-like bits within. A third jar had a rich red waxy solid that he could only presume to be a lip-rouge of some kind from the lack of a scent for it.

“Curious?” The feline woman asked, drawing his attention away again.

“Yeah. I came here to learn, and find treasure, after all.” Being nice to her didn’t cost him anything- and besides, she’d been nothing but polite at the worst to him since he’d woken up. While this was essentially a hostage situation, it was important to remember to keep his calm.

“Treasure?” The older woman questioned, tilting her head. “What is treasure?”

Well, that was . . . kind of a good question, actually. “Gold, jewels, things with value.”

“Everything is treasure?” He could only smile at that half-question-half-statement. In a more simplistic way, she was right- and he agreed. He had been a little more grandiose about it, though. After all, he’d left the College in order to find fame and fortune. Sure, if he came back with stories of the Faunus, that would give him some fame, but . . .

One couldn’t disprove material objects. “Kind of.” He responded.   
  
“Kind of? Yes but no?” He nodded in return, finally settling for using the seeming body-wash to cleanse himself of the stink of blood. The sting of the mint-like gel was enough to drive goosebumps up his flesh, but in the same breath, it brought a higher sensitivity to his skin.  _ I wonder how that affects them? _

After a minute or so, he started to forget that he was being watched. The pleasure of a bath after what felt like days without was one he couldn’t deny. Finally, after dunking his head under and wetting his hair, he started to pull himself from the communal bath.

Just in time to note that Blake’s mother wasn’t the only one lingering at the doorway now. A crowd had gathered outside the baths, and he distinctly realized that he was naked when whole groups of eyes darted down south before he had the sense to cover himself up.

Was it wrong to call them cat-calls? Probably. Nonetheless, he looked towards Blake’s mother as the woman gestured for him to follow.

“Naked?!” He hated how his voice hitched at that, though it wasn’t quite as bad as when he simply got a nod in reply.

Well, this was going to be embarrassing to the extreme.


	2. Abandoned Ch1 piece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clearing my drive of all my old stories, so I'm posting up what I had of many of them for updates, just to apologize for those people who were excited for them.

(Neon’s Mother: Rain; Velvet’s Mother: Velour

Kid Names: Luna (Blake), Prism (Neon), Chiffon (Velvet), Qara (Sienna), Synesa (Rain), Voile (Velour), Alba (Trifa))

**The Jungles of Menagerie**

**Chapter One**

**The Young Khan**

  
  
  


If Jaune had thought it was going to be embarrassing, he was pleased to know he was wrong.

**It was mortifying.**

It felt like the entire village of women must have witnessed him following Kali back to the hut where he’d woken up, and the soft array of noises that followed him as he walked were… discomforting.

He’d heard the legends about the Faunus, but had always presumed them to be a fallen empire or something like, like the fallen empire that existed in Mistral’s vicious overgrown mountain valley. To discover that they existed? It might as well have been the discovery of a generation.

Too bad that was anything but the thoughts on his mind as he was trying to keep up with the older Faunus woman while preserving some of his modesty. Trying being the operative word, because it rapidly became clear that Kali was not leisurely strolling and he had to bite his tongue to not ask her to slow down.   
  
He did  **not** want to slow down right now. Various shades of glowing, slitted eyes all regarded him as he passed, and it was all he could do to not break into a sprint past the cat-eared woman. He hadn’t felt this embarrassed since Ruby had walked in on him in the bath back in third year.

As much as he wanted to say he’d been terrified of Yang’s threats afterwards, they were both blushing too much for it to hold any real bite.

This, though? Embarrassing.

Finally, however, they came back into sight of the hut, and Kali stood by the entrance, gesturing him within. “Sienna is inside.” She noted, with a voice that was threatening to become a chirrup, “Breathe deep, then enter.”

Unsure of why she was cautioning him as she was, he erred on the side of trust and walked through the curtain into the hut after he took a calming breath.

It was at that time that Jaune learned to appreciate Blake’s mother as the one on his side- even if she’d publicly walked him through the village with nothing to cover his shame. There, within the hut, upon the bed he’d been asleep in not too long ago was, indeed, Sienna.

A very naked, very irritated looking Sienna. One of those facts was much more important to his brain than the other. 


End file.
